Put Me to Sleep
by MissMandS
Summary: It will be different from the Shire. She will not invite neighbors over for tea or have them over for elevensies. There will be no friendships formed, no talks over the fences or laughing together. No gossip, certainly not. Because who is there to gossip with when there is nobody to talk with? Part one of Lithium, werewolf Bilbo.
1. Chapter 1

"It's rare for a halfling to travel so far from home. The very idea that one would travel so far to live here seems almost absurd. You'll have to excuse everyone if they seem a little bit nosey at first." The landlady says as Bilbo walks around the house. Everything is covered in dust and it needs a good, long airing out but it's far away from everyone else. It won't be home but with some airing out, some cleaning and maybe some fixing up it can be halfway decent.

But it will be different from the Shire. She will not invite neighbors over for tea or have them over for elevensies. There will be no friendships formed, no talks over the fences or laughing together. No gossip, certainly not. Because who is there to gossip with when there is nobody to talk with?

"I needed a change." Bilbo says quietly, swiping her hand over the dust covered table. She lets the words hang in the air, not bothering to wipe the dust off on her trousers or her blouse. The landlady stands there for a moment, staring at her hand and then at the table where a streak now rests then clears her throat.

"I'll come by for the rent once a month. You remember where to find me should you have any questions?"

"You live in the house just five steps away from the masters; if I come face to face with Alfrid Lickspittle then I've gone too far."

"That's right. Well I'm off now, good luck to you." Bilbo waves her off, watching as the woman disappears from sight. As soon as she's gone Bilbo grabs her pack and hurries towards the cellar.

The first thing she does is board up the windows, hammering nail after nail even when the Baggins part of her deems it enough. There cannot be enough she knows. Bilbo clears the cellar until finally it's nothing but a dark, boarded up and dreary room free of anything but a hobbit sitting in the dark and the occasional spider that scampers across the floor.

"I'll clean the dust later." She promises as a spider scampers across her feet. She crawls out of the cellar and blinks at the sudden light, a shiver wracking her body as the cool air bites at her body through her thin blouse. Or maybe it's for the rather ugly, twisted face sneering down at her.

"How can I help you, sir?" Bilbo asks.

"I heard word that we were getting a halfling moving in and for the good of the people I decided to check things out. And here I find you, windows nailed up and coming out of the cellar covered with dust."

"Oh Alfrid, leave the poor lady alone. Perhaps she's just trying to clean up her house but I don't suppose that's anything you would know about now is it? After all you order everyone else around to take care of the master, don't you?" The man Alfrid turns with a snarl towards the newcomer. It's another man but he doesn't seem to tower over her like Alfrid, doesn't seem nearly as intimidating or vicious even as Alfrid advances on him.

"You're always one for the less fortunate aren't you Bard?"

"Less fortunate because her circumstances whatever they may be brought her here? No Alfrid, I simply don't wish to see her harassed by you."

"You can be sure that the master will hear of this, halfling." Alfrid spits at her before turning and stalking off. Bard rolls his eyes, looking wholly unimpressed as he strides forward, offering her a hand to help her out of the cellar. Bilbo grabs hold of his hand and allows him to help haul her up.

"You shouldn't let Alfrid bother you. He's just the master's whipping boy but likes to think that he holds some actual authority over the rest of us here."

"Thank you for your help. It's not a pleasant thing to sit among dust and broken glass to come up and find a face like his glaring down at me."

"No I would imagine that it's not. I didn't get a chance to properly introduce myself, I'm Bard." The man holds his hand out and Bilbo looks it over, at the callouses marking it, at the sun darkened skin.

"Bilbo Baggins." And her thoughts are correct, when she slips her hand in his, it does indeed swallow hers up. His skin is warm to the touch, not hot just warm. It's a pleasant feeling and sends a small spark of warmth through her fingers that has them curling when Bilbo retracts her hand.

"Da, I got the meat. I actually got us a little bit extra because it was on sale, oh hello. Are you the halfling? Everyone was talking about you in the market but I didn't think I would get to meet you yet." Bilbo's irritation and insult at being called a halfling is quickly trumped by panic as she realizes the young girl in front of her is calling Bard 'da' and both of them are looking at her expectantly.

"Yes. I'm Bilbo Baggins now if you'll excuse me; I have to go…Right now. Unpacking to do, cleaning to get done." She will not panic. Not here, not now. She will not panic. Not yet. Bilbo walks quickly towards the front door; trying to keep the panic rising in her chest contained. She will not let it leave her body; she will not break down in front of these complete strangers. She will not ruin things this time.

"Bilbo is everything all right?" Bard calls as Bilbo comes to the door. No, everything is not all right. Nothing is all right. If she turns around now and sees him with his child, with his daughter then she will have a complete breakdown and fall apart. She doesn't lift her head as she takes an unsteady breath, sweaty fingers wrapping around the doorknob. Bilbo opens her mouth to answer then thinks better of it as she tugs the door open and slips inside, slamming the door and locking it behind her.

* * *

I'm kind of a roll with the whole werewolf Bilbo thing and cannot get enough of it. That and the whole alpha/beta/omega which I will explain how this verse works because I kind of have different headcannons for each, lol.

And I had to have this relationship of Bilbo/Bard/Bofur/Fili happen. I just needed it to happen and so do all of you. You just don't know it yet. But soon you will. This will be three chapters and part one of a series.


	2. Chapter 2

Bilbo manages to keep herself locked up inside for five days, cleaning and unpacking things before finally she is forced to wander out of her house. She takes care to wash the dust from her curls and to make sure that she brushes her foot hair and straightens her clothes before she steps outside.

On a day like this her mother will be outside, probably walking from smial to smial to give the neighbors some of her freshly baked goods. Only the neighbors she likes of course, her mother will skip over the ones she doesn't like so much with an entirely Tookish smile on her face. On a day like this her father will be sitting outside, puffing on his pipe and enjoying the humming of Hamfast Gamgee as he rips weeds from the garden. On a day like this, with the sun shining and the soil fresh in the Shire, Bilbo would be searching for adventure. In the Shire that is.

Now she's curling her toes in the dirt, mouth twisting with a frown at the quality. It's not bad, could be a little better. It will do for now, good enough for her to plant a few flowers and maybe a couple vegetables.

"Your toes are going to get cold." A voice announces as a finger pokes at her toes. Bilbo lets out a shriek, leaping back at the sudden touch. A little girl kneels on the ground, looking completely unphased by Bilbo's shriek or the fact that someone else stands behind her gaping.

"Tilda, what have we talked about with personal space and cultural differences?" He finally manages to splutter out.

"That not everyone likes hugs like you and da do? And that some things like braids and hair mean different things?" The little girl, Tilda reminds her of a Took child with the mischievous gleam in her eyes and the warm smile.

"I'm sorry about that mistress hobbit. Tilda had heard there was a hobbit now living in Dale and demanded that we come...Introduce ourselves. Ori, son of Kori; I'm a dwarf from Erebor. And this is Tilda, the daughter of Bard—if you've met him already. Her older sister is Sigrid?"

"Yes, I've met them." Bilbo says, curling her toes tighter on the ground.

"My da talked about you the other night, said you were pretty as a flower. Only I don't think I was supposed to say that."

"Pretty as a flower huh? Well your da would certainly be able to charm a younger hobbit lass. Speaking of flowers could you tell me where the market is?" Tilda is practically bouncing up and down on her tiptoes now as she asks, looking at Bilbo eagerly.

"That's where we're going to! Do you want to come with us? Ori, can she come with us?"

"Would you like to come with us mistress hobbit? I promise Tilda won't bite. She might talk your ear though."

"I could use some flowers and vegetable seeds for my garden." Bilbo says and nearly lets out another shriek as Tilda seizes her hand and pulls her along.

* * *

The market proves to be an interesting place full of big folks, all of who turn to stare at Bilbo. Some offer smiles that vary from timid to warm. Others give her disgusted, almost annoyed looks and turn back to their stands and work with grunts. Tilda doesn't seem to notice any of the glares as she guides Bilbo through the market, talking all the while.

"Do you care if I ask you something?" Ori asks as they come to a stop in front of a flower stand.

"You may ask, I may not answer." Bilbo says quietly as she runs a finger over the crinkly petals of a dying flower.

"How did you end up here? I don't mean offense only that, I've read hobbits try to avoid travelling long ways. That it can be difficult on the larger families…"

"It's difficult on families that are larger because it's quite difficult trying to wrangle a group of fauntlings day after day. All while convincing them that today will be the day that you'll be there. Hobbits enjoy travelling, just not long ways. Something, something happened to me that I needed a change."

"Is it true what they say about heats?"

"Other races build them up to be these terrible, painful things that have hobbits lying in bed and wanting nothing more than to be…Well, you know. Really though, it's not as bad as you build them up to be. Sometimes the heats are very difficult and can be a little painful. Other times the heats make you feel hungry for just one food, one time I craved nothing but potatoes. I ate them raw, right there in my bed."

"Oh, you could have had chips." Ori exclaims as if having them raw is a great crime indeed.

"Ori you would have chips every day if Dori allowed you too. Don't you ever have anything else besides chips?" Bilbo jumps as a strange face pops up from behind Ori. Ori doesn't look the least bit surprised as they prop their chin up on their shoulder, looking between her and Ori.

"Kili this is Bilbo. Bilbo this is the princess of Erebor, Kili."

"Ah so hobbit ladies are not the only ones with facial hair?" Bilbo's words have both Ori and Kili standing up straight, eyes wide as they gape at her. Bilbo doesn't notice as she glances over the flower with a frown. None of them are particularly standing out to her, none of them Shire quality. She turns away from them with a sigh, only to find them both gaping at her.

"Hobbit women…They have beards?" Ori squeaks.

"Well not _all _hobbit women. There are a couple betas and quite a few alpha females that have beards, very lovely ones if I say so myself. There are even a couple of omegas that have beards."

"And the males?" Kili prompts.

"Males can have beards too though most of the time our ladies have finer beards than our men." Bilbo doesn't mention that she has quite a fine coppery beard herself when she doesn't shave as she hands over some coins to the vendor.

* * *

Hey guys, don't be stupid like me and wear a hoodie outside in warm weather to walk to the store. Because you will get a heat rash and big hives all over your back. You will take benadryl and you will become loopy as hell. Went from: 'I am going to do homework and be productive to I can't hear the TV over the lights.'

Next chapter will be the last one!


	3. Chapter 3

Despite her best efforts Bilbo cannot manage to avoid Tilda. She continuously visits her house each day without fail, offering something new about what happened at their house. Sometimes it's about Sigrid who attempted to cook a new dish but it didn't come out like it was supposed to and the whole house smelled like burnt bread. Sometimes it's about Bain, their brother who Tilda even brings on a couple of visits. He's more reserved than Tilda, quieter but still curious. Most of the times she talks about her father though, prattling on what he did or said that day, the day before or many years ago (those tales often having corrections from Bain about what did or didn't happen).

Today is no exception. Tilda comes knocking on Bilbo's door even earlier than normal, sounding eager as she calls out her greeting.

"Good morning Miss Bilbo! I brought Ori, Bain and even Mister Balin. He wants to meet you and find out more about hobbits." She does not want to meet with people today; she does not want to see anyone. She wants to lock herself up in the basement and watch the spiders scurry around in the dark and listen to the townspeople as they go about their daily lives. She's in no condition to meet with anyone. She has to compose herself.

Sweat is beading on her forehead, slipping down her back and pooling at her waist. Bilbo reaches up and with shaking hands, swipes them across her face. She grips the counter and breathes out. She needs water; she needs them to get out of here. Bilbo cannot yell though, she cannot run down to the cellar. With a deep breath she shrugs her shoulders and looks towards the front door.

Tilda looks as happy as ever as she opens up the door. Until she looks at Bilbo's face and then she's frowning, her brow furrowing as she grabs hold of Bilbo's arm and tries to pull her down.

"Are you sick? You look like you feel sick Miss Bilbo."

"We can come back another day if you're not feeling well mistress hobbit." A white haired dwarf offers.

"I'm not sick and I can't just turn my favorite visitors away now, can I? Come in, come in. You'll have to excuse me; it's just been a very long morning. I didn't sleep very well the night before either." Bilbo says as she ushers them into her house.

It's become quite a quaint little home without the layers of dust and dirt. There are a couple of things from the Shire, some flowers sitting in the window. There are some muffins, blueberry because she may or may not have heard Tilda say that those were her father's favorites sit on the stovetop. Bain looks around with wide eyes, stopping to look longingly at the muffins.

"I never imagined that anyone could make this place livable." Bain confesses; looking sheepish as Bilbo hands him a muffin.

"Who were the previous owners? Do you know?"

"It was a very odd man, always wore a cloak, kept to himself and never talked to anyone. He stopped paying his rent then when the landlady came by to see him, she saw that he wasn't here anymore. He just disappeared." Bain shrugs. Bilbo bites her tongue, trying very hard not to think about the scratch marks on the wall in the basement as she starts to dish out the muffins.

"Are you going to introduce me to Mister Balin, children?"

Bilbo spends the afternoon exchanging the differences of culture with Balin and Ori who writes it all down furiously. Between the talks Bilbo attempts to teach Bain and Tilda how to make sweets, attempt being the key word. Half the mix ends up on the table, on the floor, her clothes and the children's clothes. Bilbo is searching for some clothes that can fit Tilda and hoping that she maybe has some of her father's clothes for Bain when there's a startled cry from Ori.

"I didn't realize how late it is, Dori's probably worked himself up into a panic." Ori sighs.

"Not to worry about it laddie, he won't be angry if you're with me. Come on, we need to be heading back anyways. Thank you for your hospitality Miss Bilbo, I hope to enjoy your company and your muffins again." With a chaste kiss to her knuckles and a wink Balin is gone, Ori waving as the two disappear.

She's just dug out some clothes for Tilda when there's a knock at the door and she hears Sigrid's voice sounding worried and anxious.

"Excuse me, Miss Bilbo? Are you in there? Are Tilda and Bain with you?" Bilbo opens the door and finds Sigrid looking pale and a bit shaken. Kili stands behind her, her brow furrowed as she follows after Sigrid.

"Her father isn't home yet and it's getting dark. He left early this morning with no word about when he would be back." Kili explains quietly as Sigrid hugs Tilda and Bain.

"Thank you for entertaining them today Miss Bilbo. I will have to repay you for the muffins another time though, I'd like to get them home now, before it gets dark." Sigrid throws a worried look out the window. She shouldn't follow them. She should stay home. She should stay right here. She should close the door behind them and lock it up. She should pretend that she is going to bed. She should not follow them.

Bilbo nods numbly, watching as they slip out of the house one by one, each of them wearing worried expressions. She doesn't have long, minutes maybe. Already her body is starting to get hot, sweat pooling in the middle of her back and at her waist. Bilbo tugs off her vest, not caring for the buttons that scatter across the floor when she tugs too hard. She cannot have all these layers on. She has only minutes. Minutes that are ticking by. Bilbo throws her skirt aside, ripping at her petticoat. She stops at the sound of shredding and realizes with horror that it's starting, her nails lengthening and sharpening. With a deep breath Bilbo yanks the door open, moving towards the cellar.

They're panicking, she can feel it, can smell it. Their footsteps are hurried and rushed as they head back towards the house. Kili has picked up Tilda and is now carrying her in her arms, practically sprinting as Sigrid tugs Bain along. Even without all her layers, even out her in the cold air she is far too hot and with their panic, she feels feverish. It's coming. Soon, soon, it will only be minutes. And then she hears it.

It will not be like last time. She will protect them this time. She will not fail like last time. She will not be a failure like last time. Bilbo watches as the children round the corner and she waits. The clouds separate, revealing the full moon that seems to mock her, point at her and glare, laughing at her. She is only inches from the cellar. All she needs to do is yank the doors open and go inside and pretend. She can pretend.

"Bilbo, we saw something out there. Something that wasn't…" Sigrid stutters. Bilbo doesn't hear the rest of her words. She only sees the creature lumbering towards them. It's bigger than her, its canines glistening with salvia. It's tall, towering over her, over them, a hideous, monstrous, malformed creature. It's moving slowly, dragging out the fear, dragging out its game of cat and mouse.

Bilbo can remember once hearing one of the hobbits like her saying: 'never force it. To force it is a death wish upon yourself.' Sigrid is stumbling into the cellar now, Tilda and Bain going with her as Kili reaches for her back. She will not fail this time. She will not fail them this time. Bilbo spreads her feet apart, bracing herself as her back arches with a deafening crack. Kili looks horrified, her face paling.

"It's coming." Bilbo warns and opens her mouth in a blood curdling scream as her knees bend inward, mouth twisting. Kili lowers her hands, looking at a loss for what to do as she steps back. Bilbo turns towards her with a snarl. Every part of her skin is aflame now as her body twists with deafening cracks and pops, bones twisting and buckling. There is no Kili now, no princess, and no dwarf now. The dark haired creature backing into the cellar and slamming the doors is a stranger.

There's no more Bilbo. Her body is twisting, buckling and contorting, bones cracking and popping as they shift into place. There is only one instinct now as her teeth sharpen and her body crouches and that is to attack. The other werewolf is no longer lumbering but running at her, mouth open in a roar. Bilbo launches herself at him with a snap and a snarl, digging her nails into its chest as they go rolling down the street.

There is nothing playful about this. There is nothing playful about the snapping of their jaws or clawing at each other. They're trying to draw blood, trying to cut, trying to scratch, to scar, to kill. Bilbo sinks her teeth into the other wolf's shoulder and listens with satisfaction at the shriek it lets out. The satisfaction is only temporary as it shakes her off, launching her towards a stand. Bilbo lands in a crumpled pile of fabrics, lips pulled back as she lets out a snarl. The other wolf is staggering back and worth, whimpers escaping its mouth. Bilbo's lip curls further back, the snarl ripping from her throat a ferocious one. The wolf lets out a wounded howl then limps off, leaving her to lick at her wounds and listen for the sounds of any approaching people.

* * *

She comes back to herself bit by bit. First her nails shorten and then her teeth. The painful part is her bones adjusting themselves. With each crack and pop, Bilbo grits her teeth, burying her face into the pile of fabrics as her limbs shift back into place. By the time it's all over she's soaked with sweat, clutching the filthy fabrics beneath her. With a deep, shuddering breath she grabs a bolt of blue fabric and wraps it around the length of her body, attempting halfheartedly to form a dress to cover her naked body. She stands up on unsteady legs and limps back towards the house.

Kili is sitting outside of the cellar, clutching her bow and arrow tightly to her chest as she looks back and forth. Her face is pale, her hair stringy and Bilbo knows even without the dark bags beneath her eyes that she hasn't slept the previous night. Kili starts to stand up when she sees Bilbo then sits back down, her eyes wide.

"Bilbo last night, what was that?" Kili whispers.

"Kili, I need water please." Bilbo begs and leans against the dwarrowdam for support. Kili drops her bow and arrow; slipping an arm around her waist she guides Bilbo into the house and to the kitchen table. She fills up a glass and watches as Bilbo drinks it, refills it, drinks it and then refills it and drinks it once more.

"Transformations are extremely difficult on my body. It takes absolutely everything in me, everything I have to transform. I was told once to never force a transformation because it was a dangerous thing, to force it, you could kill yourself. You could make something shift out of place that shouldn't, cause your heart to stop, to fail or you could cause convulsions."

"In a normal transformation you wake up exhausted and if you're lucky uninjured. Sometimes there might be a fever or a bone that needs to be set. But to force it…I'm exhausted, thirsty. I need water but the thought of food has me wanting to curl in on myself. The thought of opening my eyes and facing others has me terrified because I know that you will be staring at me with fear. I'm going to keep my eyes closed Kili and ask that you please, help me get dressed. I can't do much without help."

Getting Bilbo dressed is a long process. She stops several times to fall against the wall for support and let out shaky breaths, her chest heaving. Bilbo opens her eyes once then closes them, refusing to look at the terrified, anxious look in Kili's eyes as she helps Bilbo step into her trousers.

"That's enough, enough. I can button my shirt myself." Bilbo says and bats her hands away. As Bilbo's fingers reach the last button there's a frantic pounding on the door and Kili's face pales even more.

"Kili are you in there? I spoke with Sigrid and she told us that you were still here waiting, waiting for what?" Bilbo doesn't look at Kili as she walks towards the door. She doesn't look at the blonde haired dwarf who looks so very similar to Kili as she walks towards the cellar. And when she tumbles down into the cellar, she doesn't even utter a cry.

* * *

How long she lies there, unconscious in the dark, Bilbo doesn't know. All she knows is that this is a welcome thing. There are a couple moments she opens her eyes, blinks, rolls over and then falls back asleep. And then she wakes up with dry lips and a fuzzy tongue, her vision blurred. Someone is sitting across from her, watching her as she sits up and tries to bring them into focus.

"You protected my children." Bard says quietly.

"How many days has it been?"

"Five. The damage is minimal compared to what it could have been. There were a couple of stands destroyed and some property damaged. You tore my shoulder but it could have been much worse, I could have…"

"Yes, you could have." Bilbo agrees and stands on unsure legs, wandering towards the wall that is covered with scratch marks.

"Will you tell me what happened to you? Why you've come so far?" Bard asks quietly as Bilbo traces the scratch marks.

"Hobbits don't know if they'll transform. It happens with no warning, sometimes without a full moon even. We live our lives and one day, we're twisting and we're in all this pain and we can't understand why everyone is dragging us to be put into this room, into this forest, somewhere where we can be alone. They take us so far away so the chances of us hurting anyone are lesser."

"And after it's over, you're waking up naked and covered with blood or dirt or leaves or sweat or whatever you got into last night. And everyone is looking at you, only they're not. It's not until you get cleaned up and dressed and they can see, after you've eaten and had cleaned up that you really are yourself again that it's okay."

"My mother was very adventurous in her youth, far more adventurous than any other hobbit. So it didn't come as any surprise when I wandered like she did and found myself in Rivendell. When I announced that I had fallen in love with two of its residents and brought them home, my father fainted, my mother squealed and my relatives…Some said they knew it, others said it was bound to happen and a few laughed. But they were all happy."

"There was a child you, know. I carried him to term and he was quite healthy, quite beautiful, a boy. And I was never happier, even if a couple family members and stuffy old Shire residents gossiped."

"Then I transformed and it came without warning. I was walking to the bedroom and was carrying my son. I remember feeling this pain in my back and then it twisted and—I couldn't hold onto him anymore. I couldn't keep my grip on him. Everyone was gathering around me and trying to soothe my son, trying to figure out what was happening. And then I was being dragged and told it would be okay then the door was locked and I was left alone."

"We were okay at first, shaken up of course but I read books about it. I found everything about it that I could, desperate to find out what I could about it. We told my son that it came with being a hobbit but it didn't change who I was. Only it did because a night came when we were late putting me into the room and they couldn't get the door closed all the way. It was one of the men I wanted to spend my life with. I scratched him Bard. As the door closed I scratched him."

"And still, we tried to make things work. We tried so hard to prepare him for his first full moon. I told him all the things he would feel, what it would be like, what he would see, hear, feel. But nothing could prepare me for what I saw. The way he screamed and twisted around, the way he clawed at the floor, the walls and stared at me, the way he screamed in so much pain. We grew apart from one another and…There was one fight, it was over something so trivial now but I remember both of them telling me it was my fault. If I hadn't scratched him, if I wasn't the way I was, none of it would have happened. And afterwards we just stood there with the words between us, hanging there and filling up the room."

"We didn't have to say goodbye, we knew it was over. I kissed them goodbye and we held each other even when I knew, we both knew we were supposed to let go. And my son, my son…I couldn't tell him anything. Their lives were falling apart right alongside mine. Everyone around me was scared of what would happen to their children, themselves and where fear lives, no love can flourish."

"So you came here?" Bard asks quietly.

"I first went to Rivendell and then Lothlórien, both elven sanctuaries in the hopes that maybe I could find some sort of peace there. But I felt so destructive there and everywhere I looked there were memories everywhere. I was the smallest creature there yet I felt like one wrong move would cause the entire foundation to shake."

"Why did you follow them?" Bard asks.

"I saw the look on Sigrid's face and it was one of pure fear, uncertainty. I could feel the fear rolling off them and smell it. And I knew if there was any chance I had at protecting them it was in that moment. I didn't want to fail them like I did before; I didn't want to be a failure to them all again…"

"You did not fail anyone Bilbo." And Bilbo almost smiles at his words as she stops tracing the scratch marks.

"Tell me how you came to be like this." Bilbo says and feels the air between them prickle.

"The man that moved in here was like you, very reserved and kept to himself, a lot. He never talked to anyone in the market place, never gave anyone any trouble, paid the rent on time. I happened to see him late one night as he attempted to get into the cellar. It looked like he was in pain…"

"He was twisting and jerking and screaming?" Bilbo asks and Bard nods.

"Yes and I wanted to help him. I grabbed his shoulder and he twisted around—I didn't realize it at the time but he was attempting to save me from himself. My back was torn to shreds despite his attempts. I ran home bleeding to the sounds of a man screaming that he was sorry that broke off into a howl. Sigrid bandaged up my back and I forgot about it except for the nightmares. He ended up leaving without a word and we forgot about him, until the next full moon that was. I was away from my children thankfully, away from anyone thankfully. I didn't realize what had happened when I woke up in an alleyway to a woman asking me what I was doing. My mother read me tales about—werewolves as a child but I did not think them to exist." The smile that Bilbo gives him is a bitter one.

"You would be surprised about all the things that exist in our world." Bard is careful as he takes her hand, guiding her slowly towards the only untouched wall in the cellar.

"I found this the first time I came here to transform and I left." Bard says quietly as he steps away from her. Bilbo steps closer, willing her knees not to buckle as she looks over the paintings. Each detail has been captured from their first meeting to their last moment together. The scratches are even there, perfectly detailed and she wants to lift her hand, to drag it across and smear it. It will take one swipe of her hand. She moves past the arm, looking towards her son's face.

Bilbo puts her hand on the edge of the painting, taking a deep breath as she prepares to drag her hand across it. He's never going to call her mama, again. She's never going to be 'mama' again. It will take one swipe, one quick movement and his face will be distorted. One swipe, one quick movement over the entire thing and they will be distorted. They will be nothing more than a stain on her hand, then her clothes, then gone in the wash.

He was here, in this room. He was standing here. And she wonders if he considered with one swipe of his hand distorting the entire thing, wiping it all away and making all of this no more than a memory he hopes the others shared with him. Bilbo's arm is seized by a hand and she opens her eyes to see Bard staring at her then looking away. She follows his gaze and finds that on the wall are the crudely painted faces of Sigrid, Bain and Tilda. She curls her hand into a fist then lets it drop, looking at Bard. He turns his head to look at her as she opens up her hand. Bard opens his hand slowly, holding it palm out to Bilbo. She lifts her hand and presses it against his, trying to memorize the callouses, the skin, the warmth that makes Bard. For when the next full moon comes, this will be gone.

* * *

Have you all seen that Luke Evans is goign to be Gaston in the Beauty and the Beast broadway production? And that Ian McKellan is going to be Cogsworth? Yesssss, I am fangirling out like you wouldn't believe.

How is that for a headcanon and an ending? And the best part of this all is that, I'm not even done with my headcanon for Bilbo. There's more. It gets better and more painful! I know, so exciting!


End file.
